


a city half asleep

by falling in love (princess_zel)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Because she's iconic, Cigarettes, Established Relationship, Exploring, F/M, Katara has glasses, Urbexing, high school sweethearts, november - Freeform, polaroids, they're in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess_zel/pseuds/falling%20in%20love
Summary: On that night in November, Katara loves Zuko on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, and she wouldn't change a damn thing.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 63
Collections: Zutara February Flash Fics





	a city half asleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pierpressure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pierpressure/gifts).



> this is for sooks because i love u to the moon n back.
> 
> this is pure hs nostalgia, no regrets. two kids being young n in love as they should be

The air feel crisp, and dead leaves crunch beneath their feet as they walk down the crowded street to the empty warehouse right at the corner. With practiced ease, Zuko scrambles up the rickety fire escape located on the side of the building, landing safely on a platform before reaching his hand down toward her.

Tucking a few wispy curls back into the loose ponytail located at the nape of her neck, Katara grips his hand tightly, using it to pull herself up the ladder and onto the platform beside him.

Slowly, they make their way up the side of the tall warehouse, wary of wobbly structures, and they fall into a steady rhythm as they climb together. Zuko always goes first, checking to make sure everything’s stable before reaching a hand down to Katara and using his leverage to tug her upward. With a bag of their things strapped to her back, Katara takes special care to not look down as they move higher and higher up the abandoned building.

They move from the peeling paint of the shaky fire escapes to the gritty shingles of the relatively flat roof. Zuko drops to a crouch, and she follows suit, digging the heels of her boots into the shingles to keep her relatively anchored.

There’s a light breeze that cuts through the air, and from their vantage point, they have a good view of the city skyline from across the water.

Katara drops her bag down beside her, rifling through their things to find her little polaroid camera. 

When she’s done, Zuko finds his pack of cigarettes, withdrawing a lighter from his pocket. He notices her shivering despite her windbreaker and moves closer beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders as he lights up and takes a drag of his cigarette.

As her head drops against his shoulder, Katara shifts into a more comfortable position against the roof, rearranging her limbs, not bothering to clean off the streaks of dirt that find their way up the legs of her dark wash jeans. “Damn.” Her words materialize before her as puffs of cold air, “It’s chilly tonight.”

“Told you you should’ve worn more than just a jacket,” Zuko scolds lightly, his cigarette slotting between his index and middle fingers as though it’s always belonged there.

She rolls her eyes, leaning closer into his warmth as she fiddles with the settings on her polaroid, “I don’t get cold.”

The scoff that escapes him is sharp, and he pulls away from her slightly to look her more fully in the eyes, “You what?”

“I don’t get cold,” she repeats stubbornly, shivering in her windbreaker despite herself.

A fond look crosses over Zuko’s features, and she realizes briefly that she’s sitting on his left side. The burn scar that runs along his face no longer fazes her, and it means a lot that he no longer feels the need to hide that side of himself from her. “Sure you don’t,” he shoots back, amused.

Rummaging through her bag for a pack of film, Katara pointedly avoids meeting his gaze, focusing on readying her camera. “Of course I don’t.”

“Guess you don’t need me to keep you warm then,” he jokes, pulling his arm away from her teasingly.

She glares at him, her free arm shooting out quickly to stop him. “Shut up and hug me.”

Rolling his eyes lightly, he laughs before taking one last pull from his cigarette. “You’re unbelievable, Katara.”

“I know.” And she’s proud of it too.

And there they sit, in the darkness of a city half asleep, in the artificial glow of tall skyscrapers and streetlights, in the cold of November, in the warmth of each other. Their legs swing out from beneath them where they lounge on the roof’s edge, and she remains wrapped in Zuko’s embrace until he stands to toss his cigarette onto the tin roof, crushing it beneath the heel of his boot.

Moments later, Katara stands to join him, leaving her bag on the floor while carrying her polaroid. Without a word, she slips her hand through his, and the smile that stretches across his features is enough to cause her to pulls him downward so that she can kiss him.

The polaroid finds its way into one of Zuko’s deep pockets as he tugs her ponytail loose, threading his fingers through her messy curls. Their lips meet fiercely as Zuko leads her farther away from the roof edge, pulling her close so that she’s flush against his lean body. Their tongues tangle, and their teeth clash as her hands fly up to cradle his face. Her head tilts back, and she can taste mint and smoke on his tongue in a way that’s dizzying. Her fingers trace along the folds of his jacket while his come to rest on her hips.

They talk. They cry. They ignore texts from Katara’s dad and Zuko’s uncle because they can’t bring themselves to break the magic of simply being with each other, alone. They don’t smoke through Zuko’s pack of cigarettes like planned because Katara worries over an article she read recently on how awful nicotine is on the lungs.

They touch. They laugh. They hold each other, waltzing along the tin roof after Zuko’s made sure it’s sturdy enough. They take polaroids together at Katara’s insistence, and her heart swells when he doesn’t duck his head away to hide his scar.

They dream. They hope. They share their secrets from the past and their wishes for the future. They exist together in bliss as Katara sings all their favorite songs and Zuko smiles down at her fondly, allowing her to pull him into her arms as she rocks their bodies back and forth slowly.

It’s a perfect night.

Years later, she’ll still find it difficult to forget the intimate details of their encounter… of the love shining in his golden eyes, of his nose knocking lightly against her glasses as he kisses her, of his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt and burning warm patterns against her skin.

But here and now, she allows herself to be lost with him that night in November on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse.

**Author's Note:**

> imagine missing high school. couldn't be me.
> 
> stan katara with glasses :))) honestly, i've been writing so much featuring katara with glasses that like... it's j a thing now.
> 
> make sure ur careful if u go urbexing so u don't get hurt or in trouble! >:))) also, u probably shouldn't do it in the middle of a pandemic. live vicariously thru this fic lol
> 
> Elsie


End file.
